


A Drawing and a Drabble

by Krank



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bad Flirting, Beaches, Carnival, Children, Doodles, Drabble, Eskimo Kisses, Fairies, Ferris Wheels, First Dates, First Kiss, Fishing, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Party, Rescue, Romance, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-19 10:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 12,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1466308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krank/pseuds/Krank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I received a desk calendar full of 365 things to draw. I was inspired to turn some of them in to Narry doodles with an accompanying drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rocky Cliffs

**Author's Note:**

> I am far too busy to do one for each day, and also some of the drawing prompts are dumb. But I hope you enjoy!  
> I'm no artist, I'm just a person who likes to play around with over-priced markers, what can I say.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"That's what you get for waking up in Vegas."_

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo2.jpg.html)

 

Harry wasn’t quite sure what events had specifically lead to them dangling off the edge of a cliff. There were really a _plethora_ of things.

Perhaps it was the night of binge drinking, hitting up as many clubs as they could and leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. It could have been the last minute game of high stakes Black Jack that Harry had bought his way in to despite his shit poker face, which had ended in a debt that he couldn’t quite pay and that no amount of Niall’s Irish charm could get them out of. It could have been their effort to run, which landed them in a van with bags over their heads.

Regardless of how they got there, however, the bottom line is that Niall’s complaining was too loud and Harry’s arms were getting tired.


	2. A Four-leaf Clover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"In Dublin's fair city where the girls are so pretty."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the Irish song _'Molly Malone'_.
> 
> Harry looks like an idiot.
> 
> These drabbles get longer as time goes on, I promise.

 

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo4.jpg.html)

 

Harry hadn’t expected much from Louis’ St. Patrick’s Day party. All parties were the same, really: loud music, lots of people and _way_ too much alcohol. After only five minutes, he thought about ducking out and just going to bed.

An hour in, though, Harry spotted a cute blonde leaning against the wall nursing a beer under Louis’ tacky home-made banner. He looked a bit bored, and it just so happened that Harry considered himself a _fantastic_ cure for boredom.

He put on as much charm as he could with two four-leaf clovers bobbing around on top of his head, and by the pink flush on the lads’ cheeks, _it was working._


	3. A Banjo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Play me our song."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from _'Sweater Song'_ by Hedley.
> 
> I can just SEE this happening.

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo6.jpg.html)

One of the benefits of having a boyfriend working towards a music degree, Harry decided, were all of the impromptu serenades he received on a weekly basis.

Niall had an entire orchestra of instruments at his disposal, and he took advantage by borrowing them, one at a time, from the university’s music department. He usually chose one of the nice, big trees on the lawn outside the faculty building and sent Harry an invitational text.

Some instruments were better than others. The brunette had found the woodwinds particularly jarring, particularly because Niall was a bit shit at them. Regardless, he sat through the trial and error, trying to ignore the high-pitched squeaks when the reed would dry out mid-song, and encouraging Niall whenever he got frustrated (“Y _ou’ve got plenty of saliva for other activities, so just pretend the reed is my-” “Harry!”)._

Brass instruments were just a nightmare. Harry found it hard to find any of them beautiful because they were so _loud_. They were better at carrying the orchestra during a symphony than being a solo instrument. Another reason Harry had a hate on for brass was because one day Niall was sent in to a full-blown asthma attack while trying to play ‘Au Claire de la Lune’ on a trumpet.

Strings were Harry’s favorite, by far, and it just so happened that it was what Niall was best at. Be it the big guns like the bass or the cello, the gentle violin or the acoustic guitar - it was a treat when Niall would bring one of those along.

One sunny day in particular Niall showed up at the oak tree with a banjo. Harry had laughed because all he could think about were old men hunched over the things at bluegrass festivals. Though, as Niall began to pluck away at the strings, Harry relaxed in to his usual spot, cradled between two large protruding roots, and listened.


	4. Tree Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Faith, trust and pixie dust."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from the Disney song _'I'll Try'_.
> 
> I can't even handle how Fairie!Niall turned out. Can't even.

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo8.jpg.html)

 

 

Niall spent the majority of his younger years alone. His brother was much too old to be bothered with him, and because he was so small for his age a lot of the other kids were wary of him. No one wanted to play with him, or go on adventures… And so he tried to find companionship elsewhere.

He’d tried to befriend a pixie once, though they were quite vile. It spent all of it’s time playing pranks on him and trying to trick him. It was _exhausting_ , and got Niall in to trouble more than once with the elders. He thought it best to end the friendship before it even really began.

On a whim Niall attempted a play date with some woodland creatures - just the small ones. However, he soon discovered that animals were always so _busy_. If they weren’t building their homes, they were storing food for winter or running away from prey. Work, work, work, all day long, and fairies just weren’t about that life. They tended to be more lazy, their job being to give children their wild imaginations and make the woods seem less frightening. It was hardly something to break your back over. (Fairies also went to Neverland sometimes but that was a rare occasion and Niall knew better than to inquire about such wild things.)

Niall at one point even entertained finding a dryad or two, though they were all so terribly shy, choosing to stick to their trees and look beautifully distraught. Niall needed more in a potential friend, because, after all, he was a social ‘butterfly’, so to speak.

Just as he thought he might give up and fly solo for the rest of eternity, he quite literally stumbled upon his new best friend. His name was _Harry_ , and he was the fairy prince.

Niall was scared to speak to him at first, given his status. He was also quite pretty, and Niall felt a bit unworthy of his presence. He was taller than Niall, of course, with bigger wings and wispy brown curls that fell around his face. His crown was made of intricately woven vines, mixed with sparkling leaves (Niall would have to ask how he got them to do that!). Harry’s skin was dark, where Niall’s was porcelain white. When he was an infant his parents had thought he had the ability to glow, though he had just been powerfully reflecting the sunlight.

Finally, Harry’s wings were a brilliant gold. His wingspan outdid Niall’s by at least two millimeters, and they seemed to shine so much brighter than anyone else’. They were  _beautiful_.

"Nah, they aren’t beautiful," Harry shook his head, perched on the flat surface of a stump where a bush once stood, Niall seated beside him. "They are quite loud, really. I mean, as if I don’t stand out enough already, because I’m, you know -"

"The prince," Niall interjected, and he watched his new friend’s cheeks grow pink.

"Right, yeah… But on top of that, I’ve got these terribly offensive wings that just make me stand out."

"I think they are perfect," Niall added, taking time to admire the shimmer of the particular body part they were discussing. "You are supposed to stand out. It makes you unique."

"Well," Harry cut in, looking desperate to change the subject. "Your-wings-match-your-eyes-perfectly-and-I-think-that-that-is-pretty-special." He blurted it all in one breath, the words rushing from his chest.

Niall blinked at him for a moment, a bit slow to process what had been said. It was true when others said he got the looks, while his brother got the brains. His cheeks immediately flushed, though, as he acknowledged the compliment Harry had given him. It made his wings flutter, his whole body simultaneously emitting a puff of fairy dust.

Harry laughed while he wiggled himself closer. He grabbed Niall’s hands in his own, holding them tightly. He looked in to his eyes, giving him a friendly wink.

"I like you."


	5. A Toaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Good morning, starshine."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from a song in the musical 'Hair'. Many artists have covered it since, and it was also quoted in Tim Burton's 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory'.
> 
> I am obsessed with sleep-rumpled Niall in a Packers jersey and blue y-fronts and a grumpy, mussed Harold. CUTE.
> 
> I don't often write Narrys taking place in the 1D universe because I find it a bit controversial in my mind because I want to write a story that people can _picture_.

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo9.jpg.html)

 

Niall wouldn’t exactly admit to being a _morning person._ He didn’t wait eagerly for the sun to rise, only to jump out of bed with a bounce in his step and a song in his heart -  _no_ , that wasn’t him. He did, however, greet the morning with a quiet acceptance, rising at a practical time and traipsing out to the kitchen to get started on breakfast if he happened to be at home.

If he was on tour, he’d wander out to the dining area and grab the nearest cereal box, praying that Sarah would make him something nice once they reached the venue.

He may not be a morning person, but he was definitely a _breakfast_ person. A food person in general, really, but everyone knew that.

Harry, on the other hand, tended to be a bit of a rogue when it came to any sort of morning routine. While on tour he was up bright and early to work out, getting his tour body in shape. Niall appreciated his dedication, and the resulting physique that he was greeted with every time Harry removed his shirt (which was often enough because Harry was rather allergic to clothes).

While on break, though, Harry was _terrible_ at maintaining any sort of rhythm. His sleep patterns were lousy, and he would carry on that way until he ultimately crashed and slept for two solid days. Niall didn’t mind it all that much. He just enjoyed knowing that Harry was safely tucked away in his bed, getting the rest he needed. Niall could always use a snuggle buddy.

When Harry surfaced, though, he’d stumble out to Niall’s kitchen, wearing only his boxer-briefs (sometimes), scratching at his skin and rubbing at his eyes. He’d wear his adorable pout, squinting around in the light as if he had no idea where he was or who he was or what kitchens were used for. His hair was always wilder than usual, and deadly sexy.

And there Niall would be waiting, cup of coffee in hand, ready to kiss his frown lines away.

After all, what were good boyfriends for?


	6. A Can of Worms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"And it don't matter if we sit forever and the fish don't bite."_

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo11.jpg.html)

 

Niall had never gone fishing.

He’d never had a need to.

He loved to _eat_ seafood, but catching it was entirely up to someone else. He wasn’t interested in getting up at arse o’clock in the morning, driving down to the river and dealing with incessant mosquitoes as he tried to wrangle something large enough to pass regulation so he could actually take it home.

However, the summer after high school (and before uni), Niall and his buddies went on a manly vacation to a nearby lodge, where there were a ton of things to do like hiking, canoeing, and swimming. The first day they were there, they had met the boy responsible for the waterfront. His name was Harry and he was tall and slim, with skin bronzed by continuous exposure to the summer sun. He had a dimpled smile, and wore an Americana head scarf like some sort of rock star, even though they were in the UK.

The boys had noticed Niall’s apparent interest (though Niall would deny his swooning until the day he died) and that night when they inevitably got drunk, he lost a bet and his sentence was to go _fishing_. _On the waterfront._

He tried not to look like a complete fool, except that Sean had made him wear his father’s dorky fishing cap.

"Have you ever fished before?" Harry asked, handing him a rental pole.

Niall shook his head, face already feeling hot even though it was early in the morning and he hadn’t gotten any sun yet. “No.”

"Well it’s pretty easy. Did you want me to show you?"

Niall looked over his shoulder at his friends who were not so discreetly loitering near the treeline. Niall could see at least one phone out, recording the entire thing. “That would probably be a good idea.” He nodded.

Everything about fishing was pretty gross, including the live worms that were used at bait. Niall quietly refused one as Harry held out the can to him, standing beside him on the end of the dock. The brunette looked at him expectantly, and Niall wanted to dive head first in to the river.

"Come on, you need to use a worm."

"I… " Niall looked at the wiggling animals in front of him. "No."

Harry sighed, and Niall instantly felt like the biggest loser in the world. Just as he was about to take off in the entirely opposite direction and save himself the embarrassment, Harry set the can down on the wooden beams beneath their feet and grabbed a slimy offender, taking the hook dangling from Niall’s fishing rod in his other hand.

"It’s alright, you’re too cute to bait a hook, anyways."

The hoots and hollers from the shore weren’t enough to drown out the erratic beating of Niall’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from _'Fishin' in the Dark'_ by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band.


	7. A Baby Carriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"My love, my love, my love..."_

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo13.jpg.html)

The worst was over for Harry and Niall. Their baby boy was finally out of the hospital, having grown in leaps and bounds since he was born prematurely two months before. He was still small, and he would be that way for a large portion of his early life, probably until he hit puberty. However, he had gained a healthy amount of weight, and his heart was strong. Joshua was their little fighter.

Niall himself had healed as well, and though he was on a string of medication to make sure he stayed that way in the near future, he was healthy, and that was all Harry could have ever asked for: his two boys at home with him, making the perfect picture of a family.

It had been a long, hard road, and he tried not to think about the night that his entire life had come crashing down when Liam had interrupted his meeting to inform him that Niall had been rushed to the hospital. It was one of the worst nights of his life, but it was in the past. Harry felt it safe to focus on their future now that everyone was okay.

Being that the city was slowly thawing out after a cold winter, they had decided to take Joshua on his first stroll through the park. He’d never remember it, and he’d probably sleep the entire time, but they had been cooped up inside far too long. Niall practically had cabin fever.

Harry had also been _dying_ to test out their baby carriage.

It seemed as if everyone had the same idea as they did, because the park was full of couples and families, all savoring the warm sun. As they began their walk, though, Harry noticed that Niall looked a bit uncomfortable, his eyes scanning the crowds of people with a small frown on his face.

"Everything alright?" Harry asked, holding on to the carriage with one hand in order to free one up to take Niall’s.

The blonde nodded. “Yeah, I just… I feel like everyone is staring at us.”

Harry took a moment to do his own surveillance of the area. It was true, there were some eyes on them. Some women gave them a smile, while others looked a bit miffed. There were even some blatant frowns from some older gentlemen.

Harry sighed. “Don’t pay attention to it. Believe me, I think you attracted more attention than this when you had a football protruding from your mid-section.”

Niall gave his arm a slap. “Rude!”

Harry chuckled, tugging Niall forward so he was walking beside him instead of slightly behind. He leaned in so that only his partner could hear. “They’re just staring because we look so good together.”

He felt Niall’s hand squeeze his tightly, and saw a bit of a sparkle in his blue eyes. Without another word Niall leaned in for a quick peck. Harry checked that off as a point in his favor.

"Nice try," Niall said as he pulled away. "But you stole that line from a song."

"It worked, though, didn’t it?" Harry asked with a smirk.

Niall’s shy grin was enough of an answer for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from the song _'She Keeps Me Warm'_ by Mary Lambert.
> 
> This one shot is based on [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1023938) mpreg.


	8. A Farmer's Market

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"The sun bursts, clouds break..."_

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo15.jpg.html)

Imagine that Niall is a frat boy living in a big house with all of his new brothers, one of them being Liam. And Liam is swell, in Niall’s opinion, though he’s far too enthusiastic about being in a new town and he’s _super down_ for experiencing all the little things about it, and thus drags Niall out to the local farmer’s market at an unholy hour of the morning one Saturday. The blond is bitter, and moody, but the cool, fresh air at least feels nice.

And Niall heads straight for the sweets until Liam demands he at least grab _some_ fruit and veggies because ‘ _lots of uni students end up with scurvy by second term, did you know? Surely you don’t want scurvy’_ so Niall begrudgingly wanders over to the large wooden bins with all of the healthy stuff.

When he spots the perfect apple to appease Liam’s prudishness, he accidentally bumps arms with a handsome brunette, a student himself, named _Harry_. And maybe they fall in to idle conversation, and Niall can’t stop staring at his green eyes that match his shirt or the sickening dimples sitting proudly inches from each side of his mouth. And maybe he’s a slow talker, and a terrible story teller, but that hardly matters because Niall likes what he sees.

Liam eventually hunts him down, despite his attempt at guiding Harry over by the large potted plants to continue the conversation. When they finally leave to head back to the frat house, they’ve got a bag of things far too nutritious and a brand new contact programmed in to Niall’s cell phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Life in Color' by One Republic. Their entire 'Native' album needs to be listened to by everyone. Now.


	9. A Highway Rest Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"On a dark desert highway..."_

 

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo16.jpg.html)

Harry whistled to himself as he gassed up his 1969 Mustang at a station he’d found just outside of Tuscon, Arizona. It was pushing eleven o’clock at night, the sun having long since disappeared below the horizon. It was quiet and cool, one of the reasons he liked the desert so much.

He replaced the gas cap on his car and jogged towards the small convenience store. It was then that he noticed the younger man stood near the door. He looked around Harry’s age, with a beanie on his head and a backpack on his back. It was clear that he was alone, and probably a hitchhiker. It was a common sight at those kinds of places. Long haul truckers often stopped to fill up, acting as a prime mode of transportation for anyone brave enough to ask. The kid standing on the concrete looked like he’d seen some things, to say the least, and it was probably his only option.

Unable to resist, Harry gave him a small smile as he passed.

While he was in the store paying for his gas, he took the opportunity to grab some less than nutritious snacks for the road. It was the downside of traveling, he supposed, though he tried to work out when he could.

By the time he made it back outside, the kid was gone. Harry was a bit disappointed, really, because while browsing the isles inside he’d mustered up the courage to offer him a ride. Just as he had made it back to his car, however, he heard a shout from somewhere behind him.

Harry immediately straightened and looked around, examining the almost empty parking lot. There were a few tractor trailers parked off to the side, the drivers likely pulled over for a nap. There was another one parked even further away, in the shadow of the small convenience store that hadn’t been there when he’d arrived.

 _"Get your hands off of me!"_ A voice shouted, coming from that very direction. Harry jumped in to action.

He moved towards the side of the building, ready for anything. His eyes fell on the kid from before, both of his wrists clamped in the large hands of an older, rough-looking truck driver. The driver had almost a foot of height on him, and was proving to be stronger as well.

 _“_ I said not to touch me! _"_ The younger lad kicked out with his feet, desperation in his voice. “Let me go!”

"You think I’m just going to give you a ride for free? That’s not how the world works, kid. A pretty thing like you must have something to offer in return, eh?" The man drawled, a distinct southern twang in his voice. He made to drag the boy closer to his truck when Harry decided he’d seen enough. He stepped in to view, fists clenched at his side.

"He asked you to let him go," he said firmly, alerting the two to his presence.

The truck driver gave him a once-over and snorted. “Mind your business, boy.”

"No," Harry replied, stepping closer. "Get your hands off of him, get back in your truck, and take your sorry ass back to wherever you came from."

There was a brief pause, in which time Harry held his breath, hoping to avoid getting punched that night. He’d been punched before and it wasn’t pleasant.

All at once the older man shoved the kid backwards, knocking him to the dirt. He turned on his heel and climbed in his truck, starting it up and taking off without giving them a second look. The loud machine rolled away, the boy on the ground scrambling backwards to avoid getting crushed under one of it’s massive tires. Harry rushed forward to help him, getting his hands under his arms and helping him to his feet.

"Are you alright?" He asked, starting to brush off the boy’s navy sweater.

In response, the kid stepped back, hugging his arms around himself. He looked at Harry warily, a tremble in his shoulders.

Harry held his hands up in front of him carefully. “I’m sorry, I’m not going to hurt you. Do you want to go back out in the light?”

The shorter boy nodded, and he followed Harry back out under the lights of the service station. His eyes were watery and he was shaken, to say the least. "Thank you," he croaked. "For helping me, I mean. I’ve never had that happen before, I didn’t know what to do."

"You don't have to thank me," Harry replied with a smile, charmed by the boys’ Irish accent. Like Harry, he was far from home. "What’s your name?"

"Niall."

"It’s nice to meet you, Niall, I’m Harry."

He insisted on getting Niall something to drink, and they sat together on the hood of the Mustang, the beverage helping to calm him down. Harry had nowhere to be, and figured he’d sit for however long it took for Niall to feel better.

The boy had startlingly blue eyes, and the readjusting of his beanie earlier had revealed a head of blond hair. _'S'not natural,'_ he'd explained sheepishly. _'Just like the way it looks on me.'_ He was cute, and Harry found it hard not to be instantly taken by the new stranger. There was something about him that pulled Harry in like metal to a magnet.

"Where are you headed, Niall?" He asked, looking up at the inky sky full of stars above them.

He earned a shrug. “Anywhere and no where.”

Harry grinned, bumping his shoulder with the boy beside him. “Well wouldn’t you know it? That’s exactly where I’m going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title obviously taken from _'Hotel California'_ by the Eagles.


	10. Skinned Knees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Conceal, don't feel."_

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo17.jpg.html)

Harry hated being a baby.

His mother always called him that, and while he loved her dearly and enjoyed being the younger sibling (because he never got blamed for things), he was _five_ , and deserved to be treated as such.

That’s why Harry enjoyed playing with his next-door neighbor Niall. Niall was a year older than Harry, and he was _so_ cool. He was taller, and liked a bunch of cool things, and his sandals even lit up when he walked. He also had pretty blue eyes.

Harry decided that he wanted to be more like Niall.

They liked to play in the park near both of their houses, because it had a _huge_ swing set that let them go super high if they tried hard enough. They were having so much fun one day, that they stayed well past the time they were supposed to return home. Niall was the first to realize.

"Harry, we have to go home! Our parents will be mad!" He called from the top of the slide. Once his feet were firmly back on the ground, he took off, racing towards the sidewalk. Harry followed obediently, pushing his slightly smaller legs to take him faster as he ran.

He was so focused on the flapping of Niall’s green shirt ahead of him that he didn’t notice the uneven sidewalk. The toe of his blue trainers caught on the concrete and he pitched forward, stumbling down on to his hands and knees. He was in shock for a moment, staring at the ground below. Then all at once, the pain hit him.

"Harry?" Niall’s voice called. The slap of his friend’s sandals grew closer as Harry flopped back on to his bottom. He stared at his scraped up hands, and then whimpered when he saw blood surfacing from the gaping wound on his knee.

"Oh no, are you okay?" Niall asked, his shadow falling over him.

Harry bit his lip, trying not to sob like he wanted to. His vision began to grow blurry as his eyes watered, but he refused to cry. Niall wouldn’t cry in this situation. He was a big boy, and Harry would be a big boy too.

"I’m fine," Harry forced, voice thick with tears. "It doesn’t hurt."

"It’s alright if it does," Niall crouched down in front of him so they were eye-level. "That looks pretty bad. It’s okay to cry if you need to."

Harry stared in to his friend’s eyes. “Yeah?”

"Yeah."

He let out a broken sob as the tears were finally allowed to pour down his cheeks. His shoulders shook and a bit of snot even dribbled from his nose. He felt Niall’s arms wrap around him and his chin rest on his shoulder as he hugged him. Harry hugged him back tightly, trying not to think about the sting of his wounds.

When Harry had calmed down a bit, Niall pulled him to his feet, slinging one of his arms around his shoulders. “Let’s get you home. Your mum probably has dinner ready and I heard she’s making spaghetti!”

"She is?" Harry asked, wobbling along the sidewalk beside Niall.

"Yup!"

"I want you to stay for dinner," he said just as his house came in to view.

Niall grinned wide, showing off the hole where his front teeth used to be. He’d lost them the week before after his older brother had ‘accidentally’ hit him with a plastic baseball bat. Niall thought it made him look cool, and Harry had to agree. “Well of course I’ll stay for dinner! I would never miss your mum’s spaghetti.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Frozen (lol). 
> 
> I colored six-year-old Niall's hair blond because #YOLO.


	11. Flip Flops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Peel the freckles from our summer skin."_

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo18.jpg.html)

Harry sighed as he stood on the steps leading down to the sand. Stretched out before him was a large chunk of Britain’s southern shore, the reflection of the sun on the water making it sparkle like diamonds.

Harry loved everything about the beach. He liked the sun, the heat, and the hot sand between his toes. He’d never gotten much of an opportunity to go when he was a child, living where he did. On the few occasions that he did get to go, however, he would spend as much time as humanly possible soaking up everything he could in order to hold on to it until the next time, unsure of when that would be.

Harry had moved to London straight out of his A-levels, having enrolled at a university in the sprawling city. It was a culture shock, coming from such a small town. He acquired a wonderful group of new friends, and adapted well to the big city lifestyle. He also met whom he was certain was the love of his life.

"Hurry up, Haz!" Niall called from the bottom of the staircase, pulling him from his thoughts. The blond had his green backpack on his back, and a loose white tank top paired with his swim shorts. On his feet were green flip flops, his eyes covered with wayfarers. He didn’t know that Harry was saving up to surprise him with real RayBans for his birthday the following September.

Harry smiled and descended the steps towards his boyfriend.

One of the many benefits to moving to London was that the city of Brighton was only an hour and a half away, and it served as a great way to escape the heat of the steel cage that was London’s downtown core. Instead of boiling to death in their dorm room, Harry had dragged Niall in to his car and stolen him away for the day, just the two of them.

Louis would be _livid_ that he wasn’t invited.

They found a nice spot, away from other people on the beach. Niall spread out their blanket and anchored it with their shoes and bags so that it didn’t blow away. “Alright then,” he said with a sigh. “Enough of that, let’s go!” He proceeded to rip off his tank and toss it in the air, taking off towards the water.

"Hey!" Harry yelled, stopping Niall dead in his tracks. "Sunscreen!"

He saw his boyfriend’s shoulders slump in defeat as he turned and made his way back to the blanket.

"Who are you, my mother?" Niall grumbled, snatching the bottle of sunblock from Harry’s hands and dumping some on to his palm.

"You’ve been in the sun for maybe five minutes and you’re already pink," Harry chided, choosing to help Niall out by smoothing the white cream across his back. "It’s not my fault you’re Irish. You’re practically blinding everyone."

"Hey!" Niall whined, halfheartedly slathering more lotion on his chest.

Harry chuckled as he continued his task, rather enjoying the opportunity to run his hands all over his boyfriend in public.

They enjoyed the water for most of the day, taking breaks to eat the lunch they had packed and to allow Niall the time to reapply more sunscreen, to his continued frustration. Harry laid out for a while, trying to get a bit of color on his skin. Unlike Niall, he was gifted with the ability to tan, and he looked _real good_ when he did (Niall had told him as much).

He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been happier. He’d always loved the beach, and getting to share it with the one that he loved made the whole experience even sweeter. He made sure the day was documented through several Instagram photos, teasing texts to Lou, and a Vine of Niall running after seagulls with his arms flapping.

It was a truly beautiful day, with a truly beautiful person.

However, despite the combined hours of labor and manpower they put in, Niall still ended up with a _mean_ sunburn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from _'Summer Skin'_ by Deathcab for Cutie.
> 
> I just love imagining a sun burnt Niall. Can't help it.


	12. A Practical Joke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"And I want you to know: I am my hair."_

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo19.jpg.html)

"WHAT the ACTUAL. FUCK?!"

Harry almost dropped the two glasses of soda he was carrying in to the living room as a loud screech was heard from upstairs. He made a last-minute save and stood stalk still, waiting for a follow-up explanation to the outburst.

On the couch in front of him, Louis was reclined with a slightly constipated look on his face.

"Niall?" Harry called slowly. "Is everything alright?"

There was a brief silence, and then the distinct sound of a door being swung open. Loud footfalls sounded on the stairs and then Niall appeared, one towel around his waist and another on his head from his shower.

Harry took the time to physically examine him, checking for bruises, burns or any open wounds. He looked perfectly fine, though, bordering on _damn_ fine because he hadn’t yet wiped the water droplets off of his chest and Harry could smell that clean shower smell radiating from him a mile away.

Niall face was the only downside, really. He looked _pissed_.

"What’s with the face, babe?" Harry asked, finally able to set the drinks down - on _coasters,_ of course.

Niall said nothing. Instead, he ripped the towel off of his head with a violent yank and Harry stared in shock at what was revealed: his boyfriend’s normally bleach-blonde locks were _purple_.

He opened his mouth to question but was cut off by a loud cackle behind him. He spun around, eyes landing on Louis who was completely losing it where he sat.

Niall was having none of it. “I swear to _God,_ Lou, if this was you I will -“

"Okay, okay!" Harry raised his hands and placed himself in front of Niall as the Irishman took a lunging step forward. "Let’s all just relax."

"My hair is _purple_ , Haz!” Niall whined, shoulders slumping as he ran a hand threw his still-wet hair.

"It’s lilac," Louis chimed in, and Harry was about ready to take back his former suggestion.

"You’re not helping, Lou, really. Is it permanent?" Harry asked, turning to his friend. Louis shook his head.

"Nah, I just mixed some of that eccentric colored toner in with your conditioner. It will fade with some washes."

Harry felt relieved that they wouldn’t have to phone up the hair dresser and get some damage control done. It would take a long time to properly strip permanent purple dye, and to get Niall’s hair back to it’s sun-kissed-with-just-enough-root-to-be-classy look.

"Come here." He gestured Niall forward and slid his arms around his waist, ignoring the gagging noise coming from the couch. Niall still looked distressed, so Harry planted a kiss on the worry lines on his forehead. "Don’t get too worked up about it. Just be glad that your job doesn’t require formal dress!"

"But it’s _purple!_ " Niall whined again, sticking his face in to Harry’s neck in shame.

Harry heard a whispered ‘ _lilac’_ from the peanut gallery but ignored it, choosing instead to run his own fingers through his love’s new hair. “I think it’s really cute,” he said softly in to Niall’s ear.

"Yeah?" His boyfriend’s blue eyes looked hopeful.

"Of course!" Harry cooed. "You’d look amazing even with no hair at all!"

“ _Well_ -“

"Lou, shut up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from a Gaga song.
> 
> Harry was feeling pink that day... Also, they have a picture of them spooning hanging on their living room wall. Classy as.


	13. A Country Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Poppin' right out of the south Georgia water..."_

 

 

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo20.jpg.html)

"This summer is going to suck," Niall grumbled in to his phone, kicking at a pebble on the ground as he wandered around outside of his aunt’s old farmhouse.

 _'Aw, Nialler! Don't be like that! It's a new experience!'_ Rebecca, his friend of ten years, cooed through the receiver.

“‘Becks it’s the south!” He whined. “I’ve been outside for five minutes and my shirt is already permanently melted in to my skin!”

It was a bit of a stretch, but the humid, sticky heat of Georgia was a very real thing. It was uncomfortable, and the air was _thick_. Every breath in made Niall want to choke.

 _'New York is hot, too, babes,'_ Rebecca replied casually.

That was… true.

"Okay, yes, _however_ , New York has air-conditioned malls and my family’s air-conditioned _flat -_ I’m living in a farm house down here! The most I have is an old church program to fan myself with!”

"Well I apologize for the lack of amenities."

Niall spun around when he heard the voice behind him. His eyes landed on the figure of his aunt, standing on the front porch with her arms folded across her chest. He sighed in to his phone. “I’ll call you back, Becks.”

"You’ve only been here for three hours and you’re already cramping my style!" Aunt Mary crowed as he tucked his phone in to his pocket. "You big-city kids and your privileges. You’ll get eaten alive down here, if not by the locals then for sure by some sort of wild animal."

Niall rolled his eyes and followed his favorite extended family member back in to the house, out of the direct sunlight. The farmhouse was old and drafty, and was at least a bit cooler than the outside.

Niall was staying in Georgie for the summer, much to his chagrin. He’d been excited for his last summer before college, when he’d really have to buckle down and be a grown up (sort of maybe). He’d been looking forward to spending his time getting completely shit-faced at flashy parties with his now former high-school classmates, with Rebecca as his wing man as he patrolled for mutual bathroom blow-job partners and potential pick-ups around his great city.

He’d had it all figured out, until his mother had dropped a bomb on him: both her and his father were taking off to Ireland for the summer to visit family, because his cousin had just popped out a baby and Maura just _had_ to be wherever there was an infant.

Niall had been given two options, neither of which he liked: either he travel with them and spend the summer in a quaint town full of practical strangers, or he hop a plane down to the southern U.S. and live on his Aunt’s farm. Apparently staying home and ‘holding down the fort’ hadn’t been an option, his father spouting something about ‘wild ragers’ and ‘fire department’, but Niall hadn’t really been listening at that point.

Thus, there he was, hiding under his favorite bright green snapback to keep the sun off of his vulnerable face as he began the most grueling summer in his young life.

———

 _'There are a lot of farms down there, yeah?'_ Rebecca’s voice floated through the receiver. She was at her mandatory summer job at a fro-yo stand, in the process of doing the least amount of work possible by charming her slightly younger male co-workers in to doing it for her. She knew how to work her assets.

"There are more farms than trees here, I swear," Niall grumbled. He’d taken his Aunt’s advice and gone for a walk, which was an upsetting process because her farm was located on a dirt road and he could hear the cries of his brand new white Supras as he walked. He just couldn’t win.

_'Oh, what if you have one of those summer flings like on the T.V. shows? Where you have a tumble in a hayloft or get fucked on a tractor or something?'_

Niall burst out laughing, his cackle the only thing that could be heard for miles, probably. He’d made his way down to a lake that he’d found off of the main road. It was still and peaceful, and though the water was a bit murky, it looked cool and inviting.

It didn’t take long for Niall to abandon his socks and sneakers in favor of wading through the water up to his knees.

"I highly doubt I’m going to find a hot piece down here, Becks," he said with disappointment. "I’m in the Bible belt of America, I’ll probably get punched just for looking at a guy the wrong way."

_'Don't lose hope, Ni. I saw Brokeback Mountain, you know. They are everywhere.'_

Just then Niall heard a startling noise behind him, making him jump and simultaneously drop his phone in to the lake. He stared in shock as it sunk and disappeared, completely lost to the dark water. His heart dropped in to his stomach as he watched his favorite worldly possession get lost forever, when he remembered the reason for his fumble. He looked over his shoulder, surprised to see a guy with a horse standing at the shore.

Niall didn’t exactly know horses, but he could appreciate them and the one he was looking at was _beautiful_. It was large and sand-colored, with a light blonde mane. It looked well taken care of, no doubt by the man standing next to it, running his fingers through the horse’ hair as it dipped it’s head for a drink. Niall turned his attention exclusively to the guy and - _oh_. Okay.

Niall was so caught up in staring that it took a moment to realize that he was being spoken to.

"Pardon?" He blurted, having missed what the young lad had said.

"I said that there are leaches in this lake."

It took roughly two seconds for Niall to completely lose his shit. “WHAT THE FU- JESUS CHRIST GET ME OUT, GET ME- _LEACHES?_ THE _FUCK_ ARE _LEACHES?!”_ He was flailing his arms as he hopped around, somehow deciding that kicking his legs was the best solution. It wasn’t, he found out quite quickly, because seconds later he was falling backwards into the water, having lost his footing.

It was like living a nightmare.

Before he could even contemplate a recovery, he felt a hand grab on to his wrist and yank him up, practically dragging him towards the bank. He’d swallowed a bit of gross lake water, and coughed and choked on it as he was helped down on to the grass. He was soaked to the bone, but at least he had cooled off.

He slowly looked to the guy crouched beside him, a bit embarrassed and ashamed at his wild display in the water. The look on the lad’s face was neither humored, nor judgmental, though. No, he just looked concerned. “Are you alright?” His deep voice asked, and once again Niall was a bit too preoccupied with staring. Not to mention that he could hear a British accent and it made him terribly curious. 

The tall boy was dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, despite the heat. On his feet were well-worn boots, and atop his head, covering what appeared to be a mess of chocolate curls, was a wide-brimmed cowboy hat. Niall had decided early on that they looked completely ridiculous on everyone, but somehow this guy was pulling it off with flying colors. It was his green eyes, though, that were the cherry on an already delicious looking cake.

"Y-yeah," Niall accidentally stuttered, finally tearing his eyes away. "No, I’m fine. My phone is lost to the deep, and my pride is bruised but I am otherwise ace."

The strangers face lit up and there they were: _dimples_. “You’re Irish!” He exclaimed, his forgotten horse emitting a snorting noise behind him.

"Irish-American, actually," Niall corrected, like he always did. "Born and raised in New York."

"Like, the city?"

"Like, the city."

The boys' name was Harry, Niall learned, and he lived with his mother, step-father and sister on a dairy farm down the road.

He offered him a ride home on his horse, and even though Niall was strongly against it, opposed to getting anywhere near the animal, he somehow found himself straddling a saddle moments later, Harry having helped him to mount (and Niall grateful for an excuse to grab on to him). The brunette then climbed on himself, settling in front of Niall. There was _just_ enough room for both of them on the molded leather they were seated on, and even then Niall was pressed closely to Harry’s back and his broad shoulders.

The entire ride back to his Aunt Mary’s house, all Niall could think about were haylofts and tractors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I heard 'Cruise' by Florida Georgia Line and dreamed up a fantastic AU for it, me thinks.


	14. A Ferris Wheel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You spin me right round..._

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo21.jpg.html)

Harry carefully wound his way through the throngs of people on the fair grounds. It was late in the evening and he’d just gotten off work, the trials of having an after school job. Louis had sent him a text telling him to meet them there, and as if sensing that Harry might decide to decline the invitation, he made sure to mention that _Niall_ would be there as well.

Niall Horan: five feet, six inches of amazing wrapped up in a bow. Likely an Irish-themed bow… with shamrocks on it or something.

Harry had been hopelessly enamoured with the blond since Louis had introduced them an entire year before at that very same county fair. Niall had moved in on Louis’ street, and the older boy had invited him along to the festivities and the rest was history. Niall had fit in to their little group of friends seamlessly, and everyone loved him.

“Harry!” The brunette zeroed in on the queue for the ferris wheel when he heard the familiar shout. His eyes landed on Louis, Zayn, Liam and Niall all huddled together, a long line of people behind them. He jogged over, feeling his heart leap when Niall gave him a smile.

“It’s about time, mate,” Louis huffed. “I texted you nearly an hour ago!”

“Well he couldn’t very well wear a flour-stained t-shirt! You know how Harry is,” Liam said teasingly.

“You’re lucky I even showed up, to be honest,” Harry grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Louis raised an eyebrow. “Oh believe me, I know _exactly_ why you showed up, so don’t even play.”

Harry was about to let out a squawk when the line suddenly began to move, and Louis latched on to Harry’s arm, dragging him in to line with the rest of them. He looked apologetically at the queue of kids and teens behind them, knowing how much he himself hated people who cut in line. He was pressed quite close to Niall, though, so he wasn’t about to complain.

Harry was surprised that Zayn was even with them, considering he was deathly afraid of heights. The dark-skinned lad then explained what was in it for him – all of Louis’ Xbox games, whichever ones he wanted, whenever he wanted them, for an entire year. It seemed a bit unfair in exchange for a silly ride on a ferris wheel, though Harry would never question Louis’ bartering skills, because he always got what he wanted.

The ride operator ushered them forward and Niall skipped up the ramp, planting himself on the waiting bench. “Come on, Lou! You said you were riding with me!”

Louis shook his head, linking an arm with Zayn and Liam. “Changed my mind, blondie. I’m riding with these boys, but Harry will go with you!”

Harry froze, turning towards Louis. “What are you _doing_?”

“Now’s your chance, big guy,” Louis jerked his head towards the Irishman. “He’s all yours and it’s probably the most romantic spot in this entire dead-end town so seize the opportunity!”

“Louis, you -”

“GO!”

Harry stumbled forward awkwardly, having realized he was holding up the line and that people were getting agitated. He took his place beside Niall and the man strapped them in, then sent them on their way.

“I’ve always loved ferris wheels,” Niall said quietly as they made their way to the top.

“Why is that?” Harry asked, gripping the bar in his lap tightly. He’d spent plenty of time with Niall when they were all together in a group, but every time he was alone with him he got fidgety.

The blond shrugged. “Not sure. I think because it’s peaceful. It’s not like those other rides with the lights and the sounds. It doesn’t go too fast, and you get to see whatever view you can from the top and then you float back down again.”

Harry smiled. “That was oddly beautiful.”

“I could get a job with this carnival!” Niall mused, adjusting the green snapback on his head. “Wandering around spewing poetry about ferris wheels!”

“You’d be a terrible carnie, no offence,” Harry teased. “You’re too friendly and cute.” He’d meant it as a joke, and as an obvious comparison to all the rather gross men that typically worked midway rides, though as soon as it left his mouth he felt the discernible change in the air. Also in that moment, the ride ground to a halt with them at the very top of the wheel.

Niall’s cheeks were rosy, though it could have been from the slight breeze blowing past them. “You think I’m cute?” He asked, blue eyes wide.

“I-I… yeah. I do,” Harry stammered, unable to meet his friend’s eyes. Instead he looked out over their small town spread out below them, and all of the other bright lights of the fall carnival. He looked at all the people milling about, couples holding hands and families with small children. He suddenly needed the ride to be over. He’d ask to get off. He wasn’t ready, he’d _never_ be ready-

“Harry?”

“Just forget it. Please.” His heart was racing, his palms sweaty. Niall was so close that he could feel his warmth, their knees touching as well as their elbows, sending electricity through him.

“I’d rather not, if that’s alright with you. I’d rather talk about it, actually.”

Harry sighed. “No, you wouldn’t. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

He felt Niall’s hand slide over his and tighten before Harry could shy away. “How was it supposed to happen, then?” The blond asked.

He shrugged. “I’m not sure, but it was definitely supposed to happen on my _own_ terms, not Louis’.” The ride started up again, taking them back down to begin the loop all over again.

“So, if Louis hadn’t of intervened, you would have just told me all by yourself, then? You would have come to me one day, and poured your heart out?”

Harry was at a temporary loss for words, Niall’s question making him a bit flustered. When he remained quiet, Niall continued: “Sometimes we just need a little push in order to take the big leaps, you know. If it weren’t for someone else’ influence, there are things we’d never have the courage to do on our own.”

Niall was interrupted suddenly by a commotion above them.

“ _Lou, stop rockin’ it!”_

“ _I need to see what’s happening, Malik!”_

“ _Seriously, Louis, you’re freaking him out! Stop it!”_

Harry and Niall both burst out laughing at the banter between their friends, helping to ease some of the tension of the moment.

“I like you too, if that helps at all,” Niall said suddenly, his eyes sparkling in the neon lights around them.

Harry’s mouth gaped and he shook his head. “No, you don’t have to do that! Don’t feel obligated to -” Harry was cut off by the feeling of Niall’s lips on his cheek.

“ _Well that’s a bit disappointing.”_

“ _Sit DOWN!”_

Harry stared in disbelief as Niall sat back against his side of the bench, a brilliant smile on his face. “Are you-” Harry paused to clear his throat. “Are you sure?”

Niall chuckled. “Oh believe me, I’m sure.”

It was a bit hard to accept the fact that the boy he’d pined over for an entire year was suddenly returning his feelings. It was mental, and beyond anything Harry could have hoped for. Over and over again he’d prepared himself emotionally for the ‘but you’re my _best friend_ ' speech. He'd been prepared for the disappointment, had almost hoped for it just do he didn't have to think about it anymore. However, though the night had started out as a bit of a disaster, it was turning out swimmingly.

“Can I kiss you for real?” Harry asked, his nervous fidgeting replaced by a rush of adrenaline.

The blond beside him nodded and Harry wasted no time in diving across the space between them. Niall giggled in to their kiss, and Harry felt a hand curl in to the fabric of his coat. In response, Harry cradled Niall’s cheek, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

“ _And we’ve got a kiss, boys!”_

“ _Lou, you aren’t even in the seat anymore! Zayn is practically having an aneurism!”_

“ _I’m going to die tonight.”_

In the end Louis got kicked off of the ferris wheel for breaking the safety rules, and the boys spent the rest of their evening wasting loads of money on rigged carnival games. Harry tried to be a show off and win Niall a prize like boyfriends did in the movies, though all he managed was a stuffed hamburger. Niall proudly took it anyways, and it earned Harry another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IN HONOR OF FRINGE!HAROLD BEING BACK FOR A BRIEF MOMENT, I POSTED ANOTHER ONE.


	15. A Nose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"When you kiss my nose, the feeling shows."_

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo23.jpg.html)

Niall _loved_ kisses.

He loved the pecks on his cheek that his mother would give him whenever he made it around to visit, or the slobbery kisses he got from his nephew on occasion. He especially liked kisses from his boyfriend Harry, though, because they varied in intensity and there seemed to be one for ever occasion.

Morning kisses were a series of small, soft presses to his skin, starting on his shoulder and traveling up to his lips. Harry was almost always the first one awake, and though Niall hated mornings, being awoken by your boyfriends lips wasn’t so bad. Sometimes they escalated in to more serious smooches, and even though their mouths usually tasted bad, the outcome was worth it.

Kisses on the head were a frequent thing, usually accompanying a hug. Harry loved his hugs, and when Niall would rap his arms around him and squeeze him tightly, he’d almost always receive a kiss of thanks in his hair.

Sometimes when they were out and about, or sitting down for dinner at their favourite restaurant near their flat, Harry would press a kiss to the back of his hand. Niall called those _fancy_ kisses, and they were a product of Harry’s hopeless romanticism. They were cheesy, and made him turn a thousand shades of red while checking to see if anyone else was looking at them, but they were special none the less.

Weekends were always a favourite for Niall, not only because he had two entire days off from classes to do nothing, but also because on either Friday or Saturday night, sometimes both, him and Harry would undoubtedly get drunk and then he would get _drunken_ kisses.

Harry tended to get hands-y and clingy and a little bit rough when he was drinking. Niall could hardly say he minded, though, when he was pressed up against various pieces of furniture at two o’clock in the morning, with a nice buzz on as Harry devoured his face with lips, tongue and teeth. It was often quite sloppy, but Harry’s drunken kisses made him feel _dirty_. They also led to sex one hundred percent of the time, and who could complain about that, really?

Niall’s favorite kisses by far, though, were _nose kisses_. There was a small height difference between Harry and himself. It wasn’t all that noticeable, but when Niall stood directly in front of him, his nose was perfectly in line with Harry’s lips. The taller lad took advantage of that fact, and would pull him in and surprise him with a peck. They were soft, dry kisses that Niall could sometimes hardly feel, but they involved Harry getting really close and his own nose sometimes bumped on Niall’s forehead cutely and it sent little tingles down the blond’s spine.

One afternoon while they were laying on the couch together watching television, Niall had asked Harry why he liked to kiss him there. Harry had tilted Niall’s head back and seriously examined his nose with his frowning-thinking-face.

“Because you’ve got a cute nose,” he’d replied, and proceeded to punctuate his answer by kissing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Bubbly' by Colbie Caillat.
> 
> I can't even breathe. The doodle is too much. I even cut it out and keep it beside my bed.
> 
> I want to laminate it.


	16. Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Come crash in to me, baby."_

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo1.jpg.html)

Niall never thought he’d be so happy to have a near-death experience.

It was partly his fault, he supposed, because of his colossal enjoyment of all things edible. He loved every meal of the day and when he got hungry enough, nothing else really mattered. The world around him tended to melt away like cheese on nachos.

He had just finished with university for the day, and though it was his shortest day of the week, his last class always went until one o’clock in the afternoon, straight through lunch. It was gruelling to sit through, and he couldn’t _wait_ until the end of the semester so he’d never have to sacrifice his eating habits again.

There was a great little sandwich shop on campus that Niall loved. They made _amazing_ BLT’s, and they also had home-made pastries for dessert and the entire staff knew him by name. He was on his way there when the unthinkable happened. Well, it wasn’t really _unthinkable_ because, _again_ , Niall didn’t really pay attention when his stomach was growling.

He hefted his backpack father up on his back as he crossed the grassy lawn towards the parking lot of the little strip mall wherein lay the majestic sandwich shop. He had a skip in his step and cheesy bread on his mind when he stepped off of the curb, completely unaware of the black Range Rover coming towards him.

It was over rather quickly, and ended with Niall laying on the pavement, staring up at the cloudless blue sky above him.

“Oh my _God_!” He heard a yell, and the slam of a car door. Before he could even blink a head appeared in his line of sight, forehead creased in worry. The boy crouching beside him was young, probably a student. He had a head of brown curls that were hanging in his face, a pair of full lips, and pretty green eyes.

“You’re pretty,” Niall mumbled, mostly to himself. He was lying on his backpack that was filled with text books and it was terribly uncomfortable.

“What was that?” The boy above him asked, frown lines on his forehead deepening.

Niall sighed. “I said you were pretty. Help me up?” He held his arm out to the stranger.

“No! I really don’t think you should move, something could be broken!”

“Only my pride, I’m afraid,” Niall joked, sitting up anyways. He continued to push himself up off of the ground, despite what the stranger had told him, and after realizing that Niall wasn’t listening to him, the curly-haired boy even helped.

Once he was sturdy he brushed off his sweater and re-adjusted his backpack, rolling his shoulders to work his stiff muscles. Nothing _felt_ broken, and the only thing that was bothering him was his knee but that _always_ bothered him so it was practically unrelated to the situation. He ran a hand through his hair to straighten that out as well when he heard the familiar rumble of his stomach. He thanked the gods above that his appetite hadn’t been broken either.

Niall then looked over at the person responsible for the near-disaster. _Still pretty_ , he thought to himself, _though well out of my league_. “Well,” he began, scratching his head awkwardly. “Thanks for helping me up off of the ground.” He turned on his heel and resumed his walk across the parking lot, mind once again focused on the task at hand.

“Wait, that’s it?” Range-Rover-Man called. “You’re just going to carry on? I could have _killed_ you!”

Niall stopped, turning back towards the boy. When in doubt, apologize. “Oh, uh… Sorry?”

The brunette looked puzzled. He glanced back at his fancy car for a moment, then back at Niall. “You’re just going to leave? Like, _that’s it_?”

Niall shrugged. “Well, I was sort of on my way to lunch.”

“Well did you want my contact information?” The lanky boy asked.

Niall grinned, feeling a flutter in his chest. “You want to give me your _number_?” His day was turning out far better than he’d hoped.

The stranger looked seconds away from slapping himself on the forehead. “I don’t – not in the way you’re thinking! I just… I literally just hit you with my _car_! At least -” He paused for a moment, scuffing his boot against the pavement. “At least let me buy you lunch?”

Niall pondered the request for a moment. He’d offered this guy an out, an invitation to just get back in his vehicle and drive off like nothing had happened. Niall felt fine, and he wasn’t interested in making this guys’ life any harder. It was partly his fault, after all, for walking out in front of an on-coming car. However, it seemed the saint that had hit him wasn’t about to just let it go. On top of all of that, he was _painfully_ good-looking and Niall wouldn’t mind the opportunity to look at him some more. “Well, I’m hardly going to stop you!” He replied finally, gesturing to the sandwich shop.

The brunette grinned and hopped back in to his monster of a car to park it properly, and then jogged back over to join Niall inside. “I’m Harry, by the way,” he introduced himself, holding out a hand. Niall gave it a firm shake, and then turned to the menu boards. The small shop was buzzing, filled with other students who had all had the same idea as Niall concerning their sustenance of choice.

“What’s good here?” Harry asked him, leaning in so he was practically breathing on his ear.

Niall pondered the question for a moment, Harry’s intoxicating aftershave suddenly the only thing he could smell. It had been a while since Niall had encountered someone so lovely. “Everything,” he stuttered out, failing to keep his cool. “All the food, it’s all good.”

Harry chuckled. “I am really sorry I hit you, you know. It happened so fast – I was terrified!” The taller lad fished his wallet out of his pocket as the line in front of them gradually lessened. “I’m just so glad nothing happened to you, and that you aren’t mad!”

Niall took a moment to let his eyes travel down the body of the boy next to him, raking over the hints of muscle he could see through the white t-shirt he was wearing. Harry was practically sculpted by the gods themselves. “You know,” he began, not so subtly eyeing his new companion’s legs in his black skinny jeans. “I think it worked out pretty well for me in the end.”

On top of his unrivalled hunger, Niall was suddenly overcome by an unquenchable _thirst_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from a Dave Mathews song.
> 
> Clueless little Niall...


	17. A Junk Drawer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"And you take me the way I am."_

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo4-1.jpg.html)

 

Niall always prided himself on being a neat, organized individual. Everything he owned had a place, and if it didn’t have a place he would find one, or else just chuck it because it wasn’t important enough. He had existed this way since he was little, keeping his toys in order and the rest of the house picked up. It was crucial because he’d grown up with his father, and Bobby hardly had the time or the desire to clean up Niall’s room _for_ him. Thus, he’d adapted to a clutter-free lifestyle.

He’d done well at maintaining that lifestyle up until the point he met Harry. He’d quickly fallen in love with his mind, his spirit, and his awkward, tall, lanky body. Harry was a bit disorganized but they each had their own place so it wasn’t that much of a problem. Besides, tidiness could be taught and Niall decided that he would just try to rub off on Harry as much as he could. The sacrifice was worth it for someone so pretty.

It wasn’t that Harry was particularly messy or dirty, but more that he had a slight hoarding problem, and he wasn’t even all that aware of it. The majority of it was based on sentimental value: ticket stubs from the show they went to on their third date, the receipt from a meal that Harry had with his father three years prior on his birthday… There was a point to it all, though he’d yet to find a proper place for all of his things.

Therefore, the day Niall and Harry decided to move in together, Niall felt it best to lay down some ground rules:

  1. Dirty laundry goes in the laundry hamper, clothes that could be worn again get hung back in the closet or placed back in drawers.

  2. Watched DVDs are to be placed back in their appropriate cases and filed back on to the shelf in alphabetical order.

  3. Keys always get dropped in to the dish by the front door.

  4. There is a designated box in the closet for sentimental bits and bobs called ‘Harry’s Box of Treasures’ and that is where they belong.




It worked wonderfully in the beginning, and Niall even added to the list as he saw fit. It was common sense, really, and Harry expressed how much easier life was when he actually _knew_ where things were.

However, in the midst of their domestic bliss, they had somehow acquired an atrocious monstrosity in their kitchen known as a ‘junk drawer’. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, though it could have only been Harry’s fault. The drawer just beside the sink was a catch-all drawer, filled with tech chargers, some of which didn’t even work anymore, take-out menus for just about every restaurant on the block, as well as things like scissors, tape measures, and oddly enough a phallic-shaped cookie cutter (that Harry swore wasn’t his).

Niall hated the junk drawer with a passion, though every time he tried to give it some purpose or order, it ended up being a completely useless task. A couple of days later the drawer would once again be in disarray. He quickly realized he was fighting a losing battle and gave up, only because it was a mess that he couldn’t actually _see_ during his every day routine. He stayed as far away from the drawer as possible, giving Harry the job of diving in there should he ever have need of anything junk-related.

The problem with that, however, was that every time it was Harry’s turn to clean, he used the drawer as a receptacle for just about anything that he was unsure of. Things Niall actually used on a regular basis would suddenly go missing, only to turn up a week later hiding in the godforsaken _drawer_.

—-

“ _Harry_!” Niall whined as he sauntered in to the living room. He spotted his boyfriend seated on the couch with his laptop, clicking away on what appeared to be his Twitter profile where he stalked and fangirled over his favourite celebrities.

“ _Niaaallll_!” Harry whined back, craning his neck to look at him. “What’s up, buttercup?”

Niall frowned at being mocked. “Have you seen my flash drive?”

He watched the cogs turn in Harry’s head, could almost see the file folders of his mind being sorted through one by one. His processing speed was endearing on every other occasion, though in that particular moment, not so much.

“Flash drive?” He finally asked in his deep, confused voice.

Niall sighed. “You know, the little stick that I practically sleep with that has every piece of work I’ve ever done on it?”

Another moment before Harry replied: “Oh, your _flash drive_. Yeah, no, I haven’t.”

Niall knew he would soon have to make more adjustments to his house rules, because the kind of situation they had found themselves in was happening more and more frequently and he didn’t like it. “Well, then help me look for it. It’s probably your fault it’s missing anyways!”

“Hey, now!” Harry fired back, rising from the couch. “That’s hardly fair!”

Niall ignored him and ducked in to the kitchen, remembering that he’d spotted the little chunk of plastic the day before by the stove while he’d been cooking. It was the last place he could recall seeing it. However, as his eyes roamed over the counter tops, he saw nothing out of place. The kitchen had been cleaned, the flash drive obviously moved.

It was at that point that Niall’s eyes landed on the column of drawers next to he sink.

He sighed heavily. _He’d have to do it._

Begrudgingly, he whipped open the junk drawer, disturbing the contents inside. He not-so-carefully shoved aside old power cords and used batteries, looking for the familiar blue casing of his beloved USB key. It had audio samples that he’d done as far back as two years before when he was still in uni, as well as more recent mixed tracks from the studio he worked at. “I swear, if I find the damn thing in this drawer, our relationship is over!” He called out to Harry, only half joking.

There was a pause, and then Niall heard the sound of heavy foot falls coming towards the kitchen. _“Leave it be! Don’t go in the drawer!”_ He heard Harry shout, just as his fingers connected with something hard and velvety tucked at the very back of the small space. He grasped it tightly and pulled it out, revealing a small, black velvet box, like the kind you’d get from a fancy jewelry store.

Niall felt his heart flutter in his chest as he stared at it, turning it over in his hands. He had a strong feeling that he’d stumbled on to something that he wasn’t meant to see. It was in that moment that Harry skidded through the kitchen door, clutching the counter to keep from wiping out in his hurry. He saw the box in Niall’s hand and his eyes widened, a look of horror appearing on his face.

Niall felt the dread pool in the bottom of his stomach. “I… I’m sorry!” He squeaked. “I’ll just, I’ll put it back!” Though as he reached forward, he was stopped by a hand on his arm.

“No,” Harry said firmly. “It’s, uh, it’s a bit late for that.” His initial shock had melted away to a look of calm acceptance. “Why don’t you… Why don’t you open it?”

Niall froze, looking between his boyfriend of five years and the powerful little object in his hand. In his heart he knew what it was, there was no doubt in his mind, and the reality of it made it difficult to breathe. His cheeks had begun to burn and his throat had gone dry. “No,” he shook his head. “I really don’t want to.”

Ever so gently, Harry pried the small box from Niall’s hand, looking down at it fondly. The kitchen had become deathly quiet. He cleared his throat. “Niall Horan,” he began. “You are quite a handful sometimes.”

Niall made a strangled noise in his throat, completely unprepared for what he knew was about to happen. “Harry -”

“Shh, let me finish!” The taller boy placed a finger against his lips. “A handful, yes, but a handful of exactly everything that I need. You are honest, and loud, and loyal to a fault. You are the complete opposite of me sometimes, but only where it counts as far as my tidiness and coordination is concerned. I was planning on making this a bit more extravagant, a bit more romantic, though your unrivalled determination and borderline obsessive cleanliness forced my hand a bit. Though, when I think about it, we’ve always been a bit spontaneous, haven’t we?”

Niall nodded furiously, feeling the sting of tears behind his eyes. He had no idea how he’d managed to be completely oblivious to what was going on. He was always the one in control, the one who knew everything that was going on. His constant awareness allowed Harry the freedom to be a bit flighty and out there, and yet Niall had had no idea what he had been planning right under his nose.

He held his breath as he watched Harry pry open the black box, revealing the thin, white gold band nestled inside, inset with a simple, tiny diamond.

“Ni, will you -”

He pushed himself up on to the balls of his feet and pressed his lips to Harry’s, effectively cutting him off. He fisted his hands in his ugly, hipster sweater, pressing their bodies as closely together as he could manage. Inside his chest it felt as if his heart might burst with the way it was slamming against his rib cage.

“Easy, there,” Harry chuckled as he pulled away, and hand on Niall’s shoulder keeping him back. “Still not letting me finish. Will you -”

“ _Yes_ ,” Niall practically hissed. “Don’t be stupid, of course I will.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Niall and Harry live in a fucking ugly house, lemme just say.
> 
> Also, they once reenacted Titanic, apparently.
> 
> Title from Ingrid Michaelson.


	18. A Record Player

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"When somebody loves you..."_

[ ](http://s116.photobucket.com/user/_-disenchanted-_/media/photo7.jpg.html)

 

The story goes that Niall and Harry live together in a small flat, young, in love, and just trying to get by. Niall is hoping for a music career, and spends his nights at a pub down the street, waiting for the day that the right person walks in and hears his originals (and a few of his covers) and decides he's what they've been searching for. During the day he drives a delivery truck and serenades the ladies at the coffee shop when he drops off their shipments.

Harry is a budding entrepreneur fresh out of school with a business degree, trying to get his small shop off the ground.

Because of their busy lives, they don't get to see each other as often as they would like, and have most of their conversations on their pillows at night. When Niall's birthday rolls around, though, Harry makes a point to leave the store in Louis' (hopefully) capable hands and spends the evening with his birthday boy.

The month before, Niall's dad had sent a package to the apartment, filled with odds and ends he'd found lying around his house that belonged to his son. He was downsizing with his wife, and wanted Niall to have a say in what got tossed and what didn't. In the very bottom of the box was one of Bobby's old Sinatra records. When Niall had called to ask if he'd included it by accident, he said he had no need of it, and wanted Niall to have it (since he used to sing to it as a little boy).

Harry had proceeded to search the town high and low for an affordable record player without Niall knowing. However, the new ones were far too expensive, and a lot of the older ones he found were in need of repair. He wished he had the ability to go all out and get something nice, because Niall was definitely worth it, but they just weren't at a place in their lives where they could afford luxuries. And besides, Niall had blatantly told him he didn't even _want_ a gift that year.

However, the night of his birthday Harry presented him with a large, wrapped box containing a functioning record player. He watched Niall's eyes light up, the sacrifice of his transit pass (and Louis' temporary pay cut) suddenly completely worth it for the look on his boyfriend's face.

While Harry cleaned up their plates from dinner, Niall fiddled with it, and the wonderful crackle of old blue eyes' voice eventually filled the small flat.

_"When somebody loves you, you feel it in your heart_  
 _When somebody loves you, you know it from the start_ "

Harry wandered back in to see Niall sat on the floor of their living room, staring intently as the record rotated. He had an easy smile on his face, his eyes sparkling as he nodded his head with the tune. Harry wished he could have known Niall as a small child, could have seen his chubby cheeks all rosy as he sang classics in to a hair brush.

_"Every kiss becomes more than a kiss_   
_Each look, each touch they mean so much_   
_And that's when you discover how it feels to be a lover."_

"May I have this dance?" Harry asked, nudging Niall with his foot. He pulled the blonde to his feet and slipped one arm around his waist, his other hand held up in waltz position.

"Oh we're being fancy tonight, hm?" Niall grinned, his own right hand finding a place on Harry's shoulder.

They made their way in a small circle, their technique completely atrocious. Harry wasn't all that familiar with Sinatra, though he recognized the song that was playing. In that moment, listening to the lyrics as they danced horrendously, the song made him think of the man he held in his arms.

_"When somebody loves you, it shows in every smile_   
_When somebody loves you, your life becomes worthwhile"_

They didn't have a lot, and it could be years before they didn't have to pinch every penny, or worry about keeping the lights on and the water running. In their hearts, though, they were richer than anyone could imagine.

_"Always caring, always sharing everything you do_   
_When somebody loves you like I love you"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "When Somebody Loves You" by Frank Sinatra, obviously.
> 
> Fuck, I love domestic!Narry.
> 
> ALSO: I WAS MISSING FRINGE!HARRY SO I DID A THING.


End file.
